


To ease

by inquigglysquition (hikariisjaejj)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Romance, Solavellan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 07:46:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11527761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hikariisjaejj/pseuds/inquigglysquition
Summary: Solas wishes to do something for his vhenan. A relaxing dinner to help her through the troubles of being Inquisitor, maybe? There is just one question though, what even is the Inquisitor's favorite food?Mostly Solas centric, and major fluff. Cameos of Josephine, Cole and Dorian and other inquisition team members.





	To ease

**Author's Note:**

> I based this off my Inquisitor, Arda (yeah, real original I know >>; but it was that or my other Inquisitor Ithilwen, but I like my Arda inquisitor more so i stuck to her)
> 
> [SPOILER NOTICE] If you did not romance Solas and want to you can read this fic, it is fine. There are no major spoilers. But this spoiler notice will be the spoiler lol. Don't read the next sentence if you don't want to spoiled of the romance. This takes place before the heartbreak scene in Crestwood. Sometime after the Winter Palace quest preferably, that way their relationship has grown.

Sometimes it was lonely, when Inquisitor Arda would go off and leave behind a certain apostate titled mage. Her recent journey to Val Royeaux did not require the company of many, if any at all. They were matters to be settled with diplomats and whatever Leliana’s spies could gather. In the times that the inquisition was not out and searching for clues on the Venatori or Corypheus’s plans, Solas tended to spend a lot of his time in his rotunda of a study. And like many times before it, he was perched on the light scaffolding in his study, surrounded by paints he had crushed and mixed together—filling in outlines of the murals he had crafted himself. They all told stories of the great Inquisitor’s attempts at sealing the hole in the sky. To say the least he was proud of most of the decisions would be an understatement, especially when he had learned love was possible after all his melancholic years. Love of the inquisition, and the Inquisitor herself. For her grace was unmatched and her decisions righteous in every way. Others may not have seen so, but the elven apostate could see the kindness she instilled and the mercy she willed. She was a force to be reckoned with.

A smile crept its way on Solas’s rose lips, not even realizing it himself as he painted away at a small portion of the wall. It was gentle and kind, his hardened sharp features capable of softening just at the mere thoughts of his vhenan. Nothing else mattered at that point, it was her and him, all but dancing to a tune he had longed for since a greater time.

But alas, his heart had yearned to see her face. It had been only a couple days since she had set out, yet he missed her so. When he found himself by her side in every outward mission they set out on it seemed like time would not allow them to be apart. Or maybe the mage was just being a little dramatic? He laughed to himself upon the thought.

“Messere?” A voice came suddenly from below the mage.

His ears perked at the title.

“Is that how you wish to address me?” Solas leaned over, careful not to disturb his painting supplies.

“Yes. Er-uh, I-I mean.. It’s just what all the others say. When people speak of you, messere just kind of slips out…”

“Interesting. What can I help you with?” The mage sat with his legs crossed, watching with careful eyes.

“Err..” The simple messenger felt small under the overbearing stare. “L-Lady Lavellan returns this evening.”

“Inquisitor! Splendid, thank you for the news.” The mage offered a smile to the messenger, a kind one none the least.

The messenger felt dazed, suddenly. Like all had been right in the world from just that simple smile. _That elf sure can do weird things._ The messenger thought as she left the hall and made her way back to Leliana.

It would have been foolish but something had sparked so daring in his heart. The Inquisitor would be returning soon. He would be glad to see her after being apart for a time. The mage turned around and picked his brush back up, finishing up the small, yet intricate piece.

The Inquisitor would return only to have more work thrust upon her and a never ending pile of reports she would have to write about her latest outing. She would be tired, cranky even. Especially if she had not eaten well. Solas frowned upon this thought. He had noticed how ill the Inquisitor looked as of late. Dark circles under her pale eyes and cheeks hollowing as if they could get any shallower! It pained his heart to see that his love was not resting as well as she should have. Stress must have been tearing her apart, limb from limb, worse than any Pride demon could offer.

That was when a bright idea had sparked through his head. He would treat the Inquisitor to a dinner. Homemade, with love and extra care.

Solas completed his painting, smiling to himself in satisfaction at the small feat. It was indeed small, high up and hidden from the rest. Barely anyone would notice it if it were present in front of them. But it was enough for him and only him to know about. The mage went on and gathered his supplies, cleaned up his mess and removed himself from the platform.

Now there was the question of what to make the Lavellan. Sure, she grew up Dalish, who tried their best to stick close to the old ways, but would she truly know the old recipes? Solas thought to himself as he paced his study, this was quite the serious subject. There was always the safe route—to make her favorite dish. There was a good chance she had not had it since the Breach opened in the sky all those months ago. Solas smiled, it was a wonderful idea. But wait. He frowned. What did the Inquisitor like to eat? What in all of Thedas was her favorite dish? Solas was at a loss for words, yet quickly thinking of his solutions. Now who would be closest to her? Dorian and the Inquisitor spent a many nights drinking together, she often played Wicked Grace with Varric when the dwarf could steal her away. Dorian was his best bet, there was a good chance they spoke of missed items from home, after all they had traveled quite a ways. But there was suddenly an even better idea, someone who should have no doubt known the Inquisitor’s favorite food. Someone who probably made sure the Inquisitor had it the moment she was craving it! Josephine knew all kinds of little details pertaining to such. The elf gathered himself and held his hands easily behind his back. He would pay the Antiva ambassador a visit on this particular afternoon.

He glided across the throne room, passing by the various Orlesian nobles and their idle chatter of Skyhold. He cared not for what they had to say or what stares they offered as he passed by. Most had completely missed his presence as the elf smoothly yet briskly made his way about.

He had entered the two wooden doors leading to her office and found the golden ambassador where she always was. Writing and planning, maybe more seriously than any one person could ever imagine. He admired her perseverance and how fiercely she fights for the ones she loves through these diplomatic affairs.

“My Lady Ambassador.” Solas addressed as he closed in on the desk, she had yet to notice his presence.

The woman looked up, jumping in a small fraction of fright at who her visitor was.

“Solas!” Her sweet voice rang. “I was not expecting you. You usually send over one of the servants with a message.”

“I figured this was not official business, but rather, a personal matter. Besides, I could use the walk.”

“Indeed. You’re more often out with the Inquisitor, I’m sure your legs are just itching for traveling. It is refreshing to have a visit nonetheless. What personal request can I help with? It is not often you come for my help.” The Lady Ambassador chuckled.

“Yes, you wouldn’t happen to know what the Inquisitor’s favorite dish is, would you?” He asked with eyes gleaming, waiting anxiously for her mouth to reveal the answers he needed.

“Of course I do,” the woman began with her gauge of confidence. “It’s—” she paused. “Well it’s…” She paused again, searching frantically in her mind for the answer.  
Solas’s shoulders dropped.

“Maker...” The ambassador let out curtly. “I don’t remember! Or is it that I don’t know?! There’s no way I shouldn’t know this. This should have been one of the first things I asked her! The Inquisitor does so much, the least I can do is have the kitchen make her her favorite dishes! I’ll send Riven out to gather this information quickly—”

“Lady Ambassador..” Solas spoke over her ramblings.

“—and send it to the kitchens, we’ll have a day where all of Skyhold can eat her favorite dish. She more than likely had more than one so I’ll—”

“ _Josephine_.” Solas’s voice was firm and enough to bring the Lady out of her hysteria. “It had been this long since you have not known that information. I am sure any longer more would be fine. The Inquisitor won’t have your head just because you do not have her favorite food. You do not have to bend yourself backwards over it. I’m sure she would be delighted with whatever she is given.”

“O-Oh!” The Lady Ambassador shrank in her chair, her blood pressure decreasing and her back slumping easily against her chair. “Yes. Of course. You are correct. Although, it will be a simple task to get this information, you are correct… Thank you, Solas.”

“My pleasure.” The mage bowed his head and turned on his heels, the sound of bare feet hitting the ground as the elven mage walked out in swagger.

“How does he do that?” The Lady mumbled under her breath, cheeks ablaze with her mortification and relaxing heart.

It was only a minor setback that Josephine did not know the answer. Although he was sure she would. She would have, too. But it was not the first time he wrong about something, he too made mistakes. But he needed to find his next target. Cole. He might have some answers to give. So the mage set out and down the steps to the courtyard. The air was fresh and cool to the tip of his nose, the mountainous air all but biting on his bare features. Birds flittered in and out of the little trees that surrounded the courtyard and flew high into the ramparts. The sun had just been receding its way behind the main building, readying for decent into the evening. There had been quite a few soldiers in the courtyard infirmary, as a rift had opened by these soldiers and attacked out on the roads of Ferelden. Cole was likely by their sides. But as he arrived in the lodge he had noticed many of the soldiers were quiet and sleeping away. Cole had done his job for the most part.

Solas walked on, wondering where he might find the spirit lurking about. The boy often liked to hang out on the ramparts watching out over the hold, Solas thought he might find him there. But as the elf walked in grace up the staircase leading to Cullen’s quarter’s the spirit had appeared at the top.

“Cole, it is nice to see you.” Solas said with a quaint contentment to his tone.

“I heard your thoughts.”

“As I had hoped.” The elven mage smiled as he walked on past the spirit, heading to the other side of the ramparts to gaze upon the frozen valley below.

“Head aching, heart pounding, fingers frozen. Demons spraying about, attacking, never ending.”

Solas’s brows furrowed. “Who is this?”

“Inquisitor…”

“Yearning for warmth, hot liquid, comfort in a full stomach. Touches of warm sender fingers, lips full and warm against battered skin. Warm, warm, warm. I want to be in his warm arms.”

Solas stood with a stern look upon his face still gazing at the mountainous valley.

“Not good. Hurt, guilt, dread. But there is happy, she yearns for your warmth. Feelings not felt in so long. It feels so undeniably good. You are wanted, needed… Solas…” Cole trailed off as he noticed the changes in the man’s heart. “You are happy.”

“Yes, Lethallen.”

“Happy in ways you have not felt in so long. Your sadness that runs so deep—that I could never fix is disappearing. But… I cannot give you what you want. I do not know the Inquisitor’s favorite food, I wish I did though…”

“Ah… That is a shame.”

“Dorian will not have the answer you seek.” The spirit spoke quickly, as if overlapping with the mages thoughts. “It is not a question that has come up in conversation. Varric would not know either, he has never thought of it. Leliana has no information. Cassandra thought of it, but only in dessert. She wonders if sweet cream on cake would be favored. She’s been wanting to make something for the Inquisitor to celebrate their friendship and hard work. Josephine is currently making plans to have the Inquisitor’s favorite food prepared sometime this week once she finds out… This is strange… The Iron Bull does not know it either… No one knows what the Inquisitor’s favorite food is.” Cole’s voice went soft, his disappointment in himself becoming evident. “Solas, it seems no matter how much I want to help you, there is nothing I can do for you.”

“You are not the only one.” Solas sighed as a chilling wind rushed by, it made a shiver run down his spine.

“The seasons are changing. Winter is upon us. The winds will grow colder, and the ground will harden…Soup. Try making the Inquisitor soup, she had yearned for hot liquid to run down her throat. Hot chocolate to be exact, but soup will work. She would be both warm and full... This the best advice I can offer you.”  
Solas straightened his back. It was a great idea.

“Yes. This is perfect; now, what to make?” Cole repeated the mages thoughts.

“Thank you, Cole. I think I know exactly what to make.” Solas smiled for the spirit and walked away in gusto. He had a task to perform and it was going to require quite the preparation.

 

A luxurious hearty smell floated about the rotunda and the tower above. Leliana’s soldiers had even found themselves groveling over the railing at the delicious smell. It had taken all afternoon for Solas to fix up a decent stew, a recipe he had picked up during his early years. It was no easy task, especially making sure the chef was not in the kitchen. That much he let Cole deal with, to make sure he had all the access he needed to the oven. He had picked herbs from the garden, and chopped only a few vegetables from the stocks. He made sure to use as little as possible, after all, the kitchen still needed to fill the stomachs of hungry inquisition members. But after letting the soup meld for a couple hours and tenderize he had taken the piping hot pot and a few dishes back and forth from the kitchen. A young elven servant girl gladly helped out by carrying a few other items behind the mage back to the rotunda.

Solas was left alone to clean his space and was currently setting the table in the middle of his study. He debated whether or not if he should set the dinner in the garden or in the Inquisitor’s quarters. Night was upon the hold, the sun nearly gone behind the mountains. The Inquisitor was held back by a force of demons on her way back, leaving her arrival delayed. It worried Solas for a moment when the Inquisitor did not arrive through the gates by sundown, but Cole was there to allay his fears.

“My, my. That sure does smell lovely.” A certain velvety voiced mage sang out from above. Solas had heard the voice but kept on about his business, becoming aware of his humming as he did so. “Goodness, whatever are you doing Solas? That smell is quite heavenly.” Dorian had leaned over the railing of the library, a smirk placed upon his golden features as he watched the elven mage.

“I am setting the table for dinner.” Solas’s voice rang loud enough for the human mage to hear, it was a silky voice most enjoyed.

“Well don’t mind if I do. I’d love to join you!” Dorian as persistent as always completely invited himself to the dinner party.

“It is not for you, Dorian Pavus. I have made this with Inquisitor Arda in mind.”

“Well that’s no fun.” Dorian grimaced, but only in the most playful of manners. “You know, I should really switch roles with the Inquisitor one of these days. I’m sure she’d get a kick out of the view from up here. I know I sure do.” Dorian mumbled the last part to himself as he switched to leaning on his bare arm. An eye grazing up and down the leaning figure of the elven mage—not his type, but the elf sure did know how to carry himself in confidence.

Solas chuckled to himself, it was like water rippling easily through a pond. Dorian found himself enthralled every time the elven mage opened his mouth. “Dorian. One of these days, you will find your one true amatus. And when that day comes he will love you unconditionally until the end of your days. I wish you happiness when that time comes.”

“…Maker’s breath.” Dorian let out breathlessly and quietly after letting the weight of the elf’s words sink in. His face had grown hot and body numb to embarrassment. “You sure have scored lucky with him, Inquisitor.” Dorian walked away from the railing, slapping his face with both hands. It was rare for Dorian to not have a comeback, to simply shut his mouth and walk away. Solas truly had a special effect on these people.

 

It took longer than expected for the Inquisitor to arrive. Night had fallen, and most inquisition members had fallen asleep, long since dinner served to the troops and the rest of the hold. The soup was growing cold, so Solas had left the pot in the kitchen to sit in warm embers. It was closer to midnight when the Inquisitor had finally strode through the gates on her Hart. A few soldiers with torches tended to the returning forces and aided those wounded by the demon attack. Solas waited by the entrance of the nearly empty thrown room. A few nobles stuck around to chatting and eating while Varric, Bull and Sera played a game of Wicked Grace inside.

Leliana and her agents were quick at work, walking and talking as soldiers and healers aided the ambassadors and pulled the horses away to the stables. They had much to discuss before the Inquisitor could get rest that night. Solas could hear a good majority of what they were saying and decided it best he let them be. But as the Inquisitor looked up at the entrance of the throne room she had seen Solas there—standing with hands behind his back. Their eyes met, although brief, as Solas walked back into the building.  
Solas was unaware of this but the fact that he did not stick around to greet the Inquisitor made the girl’s heart lurch. She had been hoping to embrace him or something of the sort before she went on to discuss matters with Cullen and Josephine. All he intended to do was fetch the pot of soup in the kitchens.

When he had set the pot back up in his study the elven mage had waltzed his way to the war room, wanting both to hear what they had been discussing and to lead the Inquisitor away once she had finished business with them. And as he slunk himself into the war room to rest his back against the furthest wall did he catch the eyes of his beloved. She was severe in her gaze, her demeanor clearly unhappy with the situation she was in.

“Inquisitor we cannot let this alliance fall through our grasps! If the Duchess Merí does not come to terms with us we could lose half of Val Royaeux’s support.” Josephine had been heated, her voice loud but not threatening.

“But we just _saved_ the _Empress_ of Orlais.” Cullen intervened, his voice pleading. “We have half the damn country on our side. If not more.”

“But that does not mean everyone in Val Royeaux will side with the Inquisition! If we lose those contacts in Val Royeaux then we lose all the money we need to support our cause! Duchess Merí is too prominent a figure in the council of Orlais to get on her bad side.”

“Josie’s right, Cullen. Everything we have been working for can snap like a bear claw trap. Making us crash to the ground in a lot of pain.”

“Maker!” Cullen rubbed the back of his head as he turned away from the three women in the room.

“Sister Nightingale, the transportation of Blackwall back to the Inquisition has been secured. He is ready for judgement at your discretion your Worship.” The agent bowed her head to the Inquisitor and left quickly.

Arda was quiet now, brooding with negativity and brows furrowed as the room filled with anxiety.

“Inquisitor, Duchess Merí is not kind. Nor will she provide the Inquisition with anything you ask, but just to have her mere support will mean everything. To blatantly call her out on her actions in her own home is nothing short of disrespectful and might just earn a complete turn of events for us. We will lose everything, your Worship. If you do not mend this straight away.” Josephine nearly begged.

“What do you mean everything?!” Cullen snapped back. “We have lyrium shipments coming in from Orzimar, horses from Redcliffe, men and women ready to serve from all over Thedas, shipments for supplies coming in from Redcliffe, private merchants in Val Royeaux!”

“Exactly, those private merchants, supplies from Redcliffe and lyrium shipments could all be cut off from us in a snap. We do not know the full extent of her influence, but it is great. Those private merchants from Val Royeaux will be the first to go if we do not do something. The bulk of our clothing and food come from those merchants, without them we will be nothing.” Josephine could fight for this all day, she was prepared to make sure nobody left the room without her side being taken.

“Fine. I’ll write an apology or whatever, but I will not be the only one in the wrong. To blatantly down talk this inquisition we have worked so hard for will not sit by idly in my mind. She had no right to say what she did.” Arda spoke curtly, her usual soft and gentle voice was coming off threatening.

“As no one does. But we cannot afford to lose an alliance here, or whatever she said will become more than true statements.” Josephine quickly wrote something down on her board, ripping it off and handing it to the servant beside her.

“Good, now that we have that underway, Inquisitor we need to talk about Venatori movement. They have gone into the Hissing Waste’s looking for something. Ancient Dwarven artifacts buried in the ruins there.” Leliana began to speak, it was never ending. There was always something going on.

Not an hour later had everyone finally finished their reports. Preparations were already underway for the Inquisitor to set out to the Hissing Wastes in a few days. There was no time to rest, so much work had to be done. But as the reports ended, only Leliana and a few of her agents stood in the room, finishing up a conversation about the Empress.

“Thank you Leliana, I’ll make sure relations stay strong.” The Inquisitor bowed her head to the darkly dressed sister. Her head had been pounding, but there was a slight moment of relief at the fact that she might have been done for the night, finally.

“Inquisitor.” Solas’s smooth voice spoke out.

“What now?!” Arda’s voice snapped out in a violent tremor as she turned to see who had come to her. Everyone in the room froze at the sudden outburst.

Upon seeing Solas and his taken aback features she immediately felt guilt ripple through her stomach. Her face paling when Solas pushed himself off the wall.

“I-I, err. Solas I—”

“It would appear the Inquisitor is in need of a good rest.” Leliana spoke out with a slight chirp to her tone. “And hot food in her stomach. Solas, I trust you can take care of this?”

“I can indeed.” Solas nodded and sauntered his way for the Inquisitor, grabbing her hand and pulling her away from the war room.

“S-Solas?” The Inquisitor’s eyes had been wide with bafflement. She was so lost to what was going on.

Solas gave no indication as to what was going on and simply pulled her along to his study.

Varric, Sera and Bull had been out in the hall, still drinking and playing their game of Wicked Grace. Sera slammed her cup on the table and stood up. “The elfy mage is finally kidnapping the Inquigglysquishion! Quick, we have to save her!” Sera belligerently slurred across the hall. Her capability to hold liquor was immense but not quite like the Bull’s or Varric’s.

“Oh quiet down you. You’ll wake the whole of Skyhold.” Varric berated the girl as Bull placed his hand on her entire face and shoved her back down into her seat.

“Fine, but when the Inquisitor is found all dead and mangy and just a pile of shite, don’t come cryin’ to me!” Sera crossed her arms and sulked.

“Hey boss! Score some nice ones tonight!” Bull yelled out as the two elves walked past and laughed loudly.

Arda simply turned her head in confusion at the three, she really had no idea of what they were talking about. Solas simply pulled her along into his study. As the door opened she was wafted over with a delightful smell of herbs and home goodness. It was familiar, like she was back in her Dalish camp, ready to eat a bowl of vegetable soup; indicative to her people and their spices.

Solas had removed his grasp from her hand and let her stare at the table in the center of the room. A bouquet of beautiful yellow and white flowers adorned the center, elfroot acting as the accent leaf. Candles had been lit all around the room, the floor, the table and the various pieces of furniture. Two bowls and two chairs had been set up across one another, ready for serving. A small platter with a few pieces of cheese and crackers sat beautifully arranged next to a small bowl tossed with salad greens. A vinaigrette glass sitting next to it. Off to the side had been the pot where the smell of the main course was waiting. A hearty stew ready to be consumed. It caused the Inquisitor’s stomach to ache with hunger. Hunger and pains aside, it was beautiful and stunning in idea alone of what was presented. Solas had out done himself. The Inquisitor looked for her lover as he came around with a bottle of wine, opening it and letting the deep maroon contents spill out into glass flasks.

“Solas… You did all this?” The Inquisitor let out in a breathless claim.

“You think it impossible for me to do this?” The mage quipped playfully.

“No! That’s not what I meant!” The Inquisitor quickly tried to defend her statement.

Solas simply chuckled at this. He said nothing further and pulled a chair out for her to sit. To that the Inquisitor complied and sat herself comfortably in the chair. Her feet tingling with the sting of needing to sit. Her limbs all collectively relaxing as she sat further into the chair, eyes closing with the feeling. It felt surreal to relax finally. Solas took that as his opportunity to undress the inquisitor from her armor. She had not even spared a moment to undress from the heavy items.

“Oh no, Solas it’s alright. I’ll do it later—” Arda went to move his hands and stop the elf from removing her armor.

“I insist.” Solas held onto her hand for a moment before letting it go and undoing the bulky armor.

Arda gave in and let the mage undo her armor. Revealed had been her undershirt and underpants, stained in sweat and letting off a smell that made her nose turn up.

“Solas, oh _goodness_ , I smell like sweat and demon blood. I should bathe first—” The Inquisitor insisted to get up but Solas put a hand on her shoulder and sat her back down.

“It’s fine. Just sit.”

Arda sat for the final time. It was not like she did not want to eat or spend time with him, she truly did. But she smelled and felt odd for being so pampered.

After the elf mage had placed her armor off to the side he had returned to serve his elven lover with a bowl of soup and a helping of the salad.

“You know, for someone who does not define as Dalish this sure does smell like Dalish stew to me.” The Inquisitor quipped as she ate a slice of cheese and cracker.

Solas chuckled again, “yes. I’m sure it does. These spices are from an old elvhen recipe. I would not be surprised if the Dalish kept to similar seasonings.”

Arda shook her head at the elf, “you’re just full of surprises. What is it?”

“Elfroot stew. It’ll help revitalize your body. The salad is just a filler, I’m sure stew won’t be able to fill your stomach... You haven’t eaten much today have you?” After Solas finished filling her bowl and plate he had gone ahead and settled behind her chair again, resting his nimble fingers on her shoulders and kneading them tenderly.

If the Inquisitor had been less aware of the current situation she would have let a moan slip through her lips. The massage felt like heaven on earth, so wonderfully needed.

“You are much tenser than I thought you would be.” Solas frowned, there was little his fingers could grab because of how hard her muscles were.

“Heh.. Politics will do that to you.” The Inquisitor said as she relaxed into the elf’s touch.

“Arda… This is much more than just politics.. This is weight of everything. Since the moment you were sent to the Conclave, to now. You have barely had a moments rest.” The mage’s fingers trailed her neck, kneading and releasing all the tension gathered there. His fingers moved quick pressing in all the right areas and releasing every bit of tension.

The Inquisitor was silent, not having anything to say other than to comply with the truth that the mage spoke.

“I’m glad that you snapped at me, earlier.”

“Solas, I’m sorry about that—”

“No, by all means, keep snapping at me. It means that you do not wish to bear this alone. And if it means that you can rely on me in this way, I would be glad to oblige.”

The Inquisitor sat there frozen, her brows knit with all the emotions flying through her head. Solas had scorched her heart in such a beautiful way that everything else seemed pointless in the world. All that mattered was that she had this worldly elf beside her.

As the elf Inquisitor sat there, Solas had pulled at the hair tie holding her blonde locks back. As he pulled, Arda’s neck fell backwards, looking up into the mysterious violet eyes of the male before her. Solas’s fingers allowed the tie to slip off easily, her hair splaying out and relaxing from the tight strands once being held back. She could already feel her headache dissipating.

Solas leaned down, placing his lips against the Inquisitor’s plump and warm ones. The very breath had been drawn from her lungs as she engaged in their lip lock. A taste so fine and so sweet could only be found here, between the two of them. She would be fine not eating for the rest of the night if it meant she could kiss these precious lips.

Solas pulled away before he allowed himself to fall prey to her addicting lips.

“Eat.” He whispered before pecking her lips one last time and walking away.

Arda stayed in that position, her head hanging off the back of the chair and staring up at the ceiling of the rotunda. There she had caught sight of a few unsightly characters ducking back behind the railings. A few of Leliana’s agents watching intently from the top ring had ducked back and sweated profusely at the fact they were caught spying on their Inquisitor. The second ring was home to Dorian, Varric, Bull, Sera, and Cole. However, the first four had stumbled back when the Inquisitor caught sight of them and fell on top of one another. Cole found no problem watching, he simply stayed staring and wondered why everyone had freaked out.

“Will you eat with me?” Arda let out as she held back a grimace at the people who were watching.

“Not until I see you eat.” Solas said smoothly as he sat across from his Inquisitor.

Arda smirked as she sat up and rolled her shoulders. She felt loads lighter with just the quick massage. She quickly grabbed for a spoon and began to eat away at the delectable soup. Just at the right warmth, not enough to burn and not too cool to turn off. It was delicious and hearty all the same. Each bite felt like a present bestowed upon her taste buds, like she had been waiting for a holiday all her life.

“This is delicious, Solas.”

“I’m glad you like it.” The elf smiled as he scooped himself a small helping. “…I know you don’t eat as often as you should. I’ve seen you eat just a piece of bread in mornings when we’re out and will go on just that for the day. I’d like for you to eat more, to keep up your strength.”

Arda snickered, “like you have any place to talk. You eat less than a nug.”

“I don’t eat if you don’t.”

Arda stopped suddenly, the spoon full of stew at her lips missing her mouth and falling back into the bowl. She looked up at the elf, completely stunned at the sudden confession.

“Did you eat today, then?”

Solas simply shook his head.

“Solas! You shouldn’t do that! You’ll be just as tired as me if you keep it up!”

“I could say many things about that, to you.” The mage bore down on the Inquisitor, his stare almost menacing.

Arda sighed, there would be no use bickering about this. Solas was seldom wrong, anyways.

“It would be nice…” Solas started, catching the Inquisitor’s attention. “If you did not have to suffer alone.” The mage took a sip from his spoon and let the flavors engulf his senses; pristine.

Arda closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose, holding it for a moment before letting it out. This, elf, this mage, this apostate this.. Whatever he was! Had such a way with words and it meddled in her heart in both the worst and best kind of ways. Her cheeks had been flushed with this confession.

“Are you alright?” Solas asked, he was rather concerned with her reaction.

“Honestly, I don’t even know anymore. You do things that I can barely comprehend most of the time.” Arda looked up, her pale eyes glistening in the candle light yet a smile placed delicately on her soft features. “…Okay. I promise to eat more, if you promise to eat a little more as well.” The Inquisitor finalized, her face firm in her decision.

“I think I can come to terms with that.”

The most beautiful smile Solas had ever seen had slowly crept its way on the Inquisitor’s lips. Watching it grow felt like time had slowed just on her mouth, he could see both corners reach up into the lightest of chuckles, showcasing a tooth laden smile. Solas felt the infection of her smile and allowed his own lips to curve up.

The two agreed silently to the terms, digging into their bowls and eating away at the happiness surging through the room.

 

“They’re so cute I could throw up.” Dorian whispered to the three others, still trying to sneak their peeks.

“Hey, guys.” Bull whispered. “Is it me, or did Solas paint something new on the top of the platform with the demon fire stuff?”

“Veil fire.” Dorian corrected.

“Same difference.” Bull shrugged

“No, they are quite different,” Dorian chided. “But yes. It looks to be that he has painted something new.”

“It kinda looks like Qunari black powder when it blows up.” Bull noted.

“Nah, it looks more like a nug chasing its tail but it’s also a cannibal so it’s kinda eating itself.” Sera commented.

“Honestly now, it looks more like a man’s genitals than anything.” Dorian added.

“Guys come on, are we children here? It’s clearly—”

“A heart.” Cole finished for Varric.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic on AO3 and my very first Solavellan fic. I finished the game not too long ago (including trespasser dlc) and I'm still not over it. It left an emptiness in my heart and must be filled with Solas. I have yet to read any fanfics based on Solavellan so if there are any similarities or a fic completely like this I must apologize in advance. I have no knowledge of the fanbase, as I am completely new. 
> 
> Originally I wanted to make this a cute little pencil comic, like a chibi Solas going about the hold and making dinner. But then I was lazy and decided, nah too much work. Comics aren't my specialty. Not many people like traditional art comics anyways, I don't know how to do the fancy graphic design stuff. So I settled for a fic! Hahaha... I hope you liked it. Who knows maybe I'll make more Solavellan in the future. 
> 
> I also like to think that this is during the time when Solas is getting really serious about Lavellan. Like Patrick Weekes said, he was so ready to let himself be taken by the Inquisitor and to love again, but then the heartbreak. I like to think this is one of those small moments that lead to Solas wanting to give himself all to the Inquisitor. Especially since his greatest fear is dying alone, she is his greatest bet.
> 
> Also, did you pick up on my hints there about Solas? *wink wink nudge nudge that fuckin lying fucker of a fuck i love*


End file.
